Dore Na
by Orilynn
Summary: There were a lot of things Varric lied about when he told Cassandra about the final act of Hawke's little adventure in Kirkwall, and there were a whole lot of (omitted) things that came after, including a family reunion and a little something involving the Warden-Commander and her sudden disappearance. - AU, diverges from DA2 endgame cannon and fudges with Inquisiton cannon as well
1. I - Nadas

"Young man, would you show the First Enchanter back to the Circle – gently, if you please?"

Hawke had that look in her eyes, as she did when she wanted to do something that went against her better judgement but was going to do that something all the same. She looked first to Varric, who knew that look very well, and he had a pretty good idea what she was about to do. He sighed and urged her on with a nod – not that she needed his approval, she just preferred to have it. He didn't disagree with her doing it, he just knew that it took a tremendous amount of balls to speak up to the Grand Cleric, not that Hawke hadn't already done so before.

"Your Grace, I—" She took a step forward, looking down at her feet, then at her Holiness.

"Yes, Champion?"

"Your Grace, I would like to escort the First Enchanter myself, should you allow me."

There was a long silence as Elthina looked at her, a bit unsure of how to respond. Not that she distrusted Hawke. She knew she wasn't one to get involved in politics, or pick sides. Only minutes ago she had decided to remain neutral in the argument between Meredith and Orsino. She smiled politely and nodded. "Alright."

"Your Grace, he should be clamped in irons, made an example of—"

"That's enough, Meredith. This… demeans us all, surely you can see that. Go back to the gallows and calm down… like a good girl."

For a moment, it seemed as though the Knight-Commander might snap, but Elthina's calm stare down convinced her it was best to just do as she asked. She turned to leave, stopping to cast a fiery glare at Hawke and her companions before stomping off toward the Gallows. Elthina turned to address the mildly angry mob, "Gentle people of Kirkwall; return to your homes, I implore you. This will _not_ be solved today." She turned back to Hawke and urged her on her way with a nod of her head.

The First Enchanter fell into step with the Champion and allowed time for them to be well out earshot of the Grand Cleric before he spoke up, still not looking at her, "I'm surprised at you, Champion; you're not one to get involved in politics, especially when that means openly opposing the Knight-Commander herself. In public. In front of the Grand Cleric."

"I have to agree with him, Hawke," Aveline added firmly. "Politics are a dangerous game to play in such a position as yourself. I should know. I hope you don't make a habit of this."

Hawke smiled to herself and chuckled inwardly. "I'd hardly label _this_ as getting involved in politics, First Enchanter."

"Yes, but people will begin to think that we've grown close, and that my politics have rubbed off on you."

"Maybe I like your politics," she said, almost to herself. "Have you not met my friend Anders?" Fenris snorted.

"Yes, and, no offence to him, I wish I hadn't. Being seen consorting with a well-known apostate and renegade cannot possibly help my image. It may be alright for you, being an apostate yourself, but me… Your status as Champion might protect you from Meredith, but you forget that not all Mages are as fortunate as yourself." With that, they continued to the Gallows in silence, minus Aveline commenting on the beautiful weather they were having that afternoon.

Once they reached Orsino's office, he unlocked the door and was about to disappear behind it when Hawke stopped him, "Can I speak with you, please? In private?" she added briefly, ignoring a look of warning from the guard captain. He nodded and went in. Before she could follow, Fenris grabbed her wrist and pulled her aside.

"Hawke. I don't think it's wise," he said gruffly, stone-faced.

"Fenris, we've been friends for a very long time, and you know me very well. Just trust me." Hesitantly, Fenris moved aside, letting go of her wrist, and allowed her to pass the threshold into the First Enchanter's office.

Orsino closed the door behind her. "What exactly is this about, Champion?"

Hawke walked over to his desk, then turned to face him, leaning against the hard wood, crossing her arms over her chest. "To be honest, First Enchanter, I'm worried. About you. Not just you, either – the Circle as well. The tighter the Templars squeeze, the more the Mages fight back. The more they fight back, the tighter the Templars squeeze. And quite frankly, I think it's time something was done about this."

His eyes widened and he held a finger to his lips as though to quiet her talk of rebellion. "I don't like it any more than you do, but there's nothing we can do that won't bring about the end of us, or the Circle."

"Maybe that's the problem. Maybe we _need_ to bring about the end of the Circle, _and_ Meredith."

"Maker's Breath, not so loud, Champion, lest she hear you. What exactly has your friend Anders been up to, lately?"

Hawke sighed and looked at her feet. "I don't even know, but I'm getting off-track, here. What I mean to say is that everyone has grown sick of Meredith's tyranny. Yes, nothing can be done about it at the moment, as you yourself said. _At the moment_. This fighting back and these rallies in Hightown are not helping. In fact, it's making things worse. What I'm trying to say is –"

He stepped toward her, his voice raising, anger hinting in his voice. "—That I should sit idly by while Meredith takes control of Kirkwall and destroys us all?"

"The only thing that stands between Meredith and your Mages is you, and you ignoring the open rebellion of your people against her is going to get you all locked up for good, or worse. You're not much help to your apprentices if you're dead, or tranquil. I just want you," she looked up at him, "to be _safe_."

"And what good is that to my apprentices?" he demanded, still sounding slightly irritated, but his voice considerably softer. Hawke was one of them, after all; a Mage. The only thing keeping her from being stuck in the gallows with him was her money and status. He knew she meant well, but she had no idea what things were like from the inside.

"All of the good in the world," she said, half-laughing. "Don't think I don't know about what you do for them. Don't think I don't talk to them. They adore and idolise me, but you even more so. I spoke with a young man the other day who said that he first came here when he was nine, and he was terrified – had never been away from his parents before. And you – He would come to you at night, and you would give him sweets and read to him to help him sleep. All of your apprentices have stories like that, of your kindness and benevolence, and I honestly can't imagine you doing anything better for them. They're scared, First Enchanter, because everything has changed. You need to be the one thing that hasn't."

The First Enchanter couldn't help but smile at this. Whether it was because of the truth she had spoken, or the passion with which she had spoken it, he couldn't be sure. Stories were often told of Hawke's remarkable bravery, but it was easily forgotten how passionate and caring she could be, despite her best efforts to hide it. "And you, I suppose you help the cause of the people by quietly helping them. That's how you got where are today, is it not?"

Hawke nodded and smiled. "You said people might begin to think that we're close. Anders is kept safe by being my friend. Why aren't we friends? We're similar, we obviously have a tremendous amount of respect for each other, and I like you."

"And I, you. That's why we shouldn't be friends," he said. He approached his desk and took a place leaning next to her. "I'm worried about you, Champion." Hawke looked to the ground and chuckled. "I'd hate to have people think of you as being in on my agenda. I'm never going to be free of this place, don't doom yourself on my account, whatever your reasons."

"I've said it before: I like your politics. Mages deserve to be free – people like you especially."

"Who's going to set a bitter old elf like me free? You, Champion?"

"If I can help it," she replied softly.

"Don't do anything to brash, running with that Anders of yours."

"I won't, as long as Fenris has anything to say about it. I don't know if you've noticed, but he has no sympathy for the Mages and their plight."

"And I don't think that he cares for me very much, either."

"Definitely not. He doesn't approve of my desire to befriend you."

"Another reason not to be friends; he seems like a man not to be crossed, though you seem like the type who doesn't let their friends sway them so easily, I must say. You're a brave woman, Champion. I, however, was never blessed with such a virtue. I admire you, I do, but I cannot allow you to be my friend."

"And yet, you said it yourself; I'm not the type who allows their friends to sway them so easily," she said, adding a wink in for good measure.

Orsino looked up at the ceiling and laughed heartily in response. Very suddenly, his mood shifted from playful to serious. "Champion, I… I really think that you should reconsider your… involvement with Kirkwall. When I said I'm worried about you, I'm serious. If I were you, I'd forget about all of this and just… leave. Get as far away as you possibly can, and take all of your friends with you. Nothing good can come of the situation here. I think that it would be better if you weren't here when it all becomes too much. It's only a matter of time before Meredith loses it."

"With all due respect, First Enchanter, there's no way that that is going to happen. I'm going to be here, and I am going to side with you and the Mages when the time comes for war and see it through till the end and, no matter what you say or do, you can't possibly change that. And you know what? Everything will be just fine." She placed a hand on his shoulder, the kind of gentle, friendly touch one can easily find comfort in, and Orsino was glad for it. Hawke chuckled to lighten the mood once more and he smiled.

"You humble me," he said softly. "You know, you have more faith in me than anyone – myself included. Then you take your misplaced faith in me and turn it into more bravery."

"It's hardly misplaced, First Enchanter. Everyone looks up to you. I'm not the only one. I'm just the only one who's not too caught up in Meredith's politics to be able to admit it. Turn some of that hatred you have for Meredith into love for yourself."

"Oh, believe me, self-love is the only kind I've got," he said, chuckling at his feet.

Hawke immediately burst into a fit of laughter. After a moment she wiped the tears from her eyes and turned to look at him, still beaming from ear to ear, eyes widened in disbelief. "Did you just—?"

He couldn't even look at her, slightly surprised of himself. "I think I did, against my better judgement. I apologize."

"No no, by all means, I won't be the one to judge you," she said, stifling more laughter. "How can you expect me to not want to be your friend and turn around and say something like that?! Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself." They both laughed, afraid to meet the other's gaze, ashamed of their own immature amusement. "Even if you do not want to be friends, I will be here to help you, whenever you need it. Anything to keep Meredith at bay for the time being."

"Funny. Now that you mention it, I have run into a bit of trouble regarding some runaways…"

"Well, I'm here to help."

* * *

And Hawke kept her word, doing all she could to help the First Enchanter out every chance she got. She began to side openly with the mages when the opportunity presented itself. More and more often did Meredith threaten to lock her up in the Gallows if she did not cease her relentless rebellion against her and begged her not to bring the fight to her publicly, lest she frighten the people of Kirkwall. Not she would listen. She did it all for Orsino's benefit, so that he could sit safely in his circle, encouraging the rebellion while avoiding the wrath of the Knight-Commander. Hawke was done sitting on the sidelines in this fight. She became the poster-girl of the Mage plight, and most of Kirkwall followed her.

Meredith was absolutely _furious_. Everyone was waiting for her to snap. Even though the Champion and First Enchanter kept all contact to a minimum, she knew they were plotting against her. After the incident after his rally in Hightown, he'd never been seen with her in public again. Once or twice did he send a messenger to her house, and only once did she visit him the gallows. Still, Meredith _knew._ Maybe that was what drove her to the edge. Whatever it was, when she finally did snap, and the Templars and Mages began the battle for Kirkwall, it was no surprise to her that Hawke sided with the Mages, taking all of her companions with her, and she knew the fight was already lost.

"I am not giving up, I am giving _in_."

Hawke knew all too well what would come next. The rest of Orsino's lament hardly reached her; she couldn't be bothered to listen. She forced herself forward, step by step, waiting for him to confirm that her worst nightmare had come true – perhaps her blind faith in him _had_ been misplaced, or maybe there really was no way to win this fight and he knew it. He spoke the words steadily, firmly, though to Hawke they were slow and as though from a faraway dream. "Meredith expects blood magic? Then I will give it to her." As he pulled forth the knife from his robes, Hawke leapt forward, grabbing his wrists and shaking it from his hand.

"First Enchanter, _no_!" There was moment of stillness. She looked at him, and he looked at her, unsure of what would follow. "D-don't… just…" She could hardly think – hardly breath after what just nearly happened. Her brain was running at a million miles per second when she just barely managed to string together the sentence, "Don't let her win; don't give that bitch the satisfaction."

Despite his best efforts, Orsino felt remarkably weak. He shook just slightly, giving it all he had not to cry. He couldn't even believe himself or what he'd just tried to do. He tried to focus on Hawke and calm down. He tried desperately to remember himself. He could see the look in the eyes of his few remaining apprentices – he had let them down. He was lost to them. He was lost to himself. He tried to focus on Hawke, he needed to remember why he was here. His body relaxed just enough and he allowed his forehead to rest on hers. "I am so sorry, Champion. But I –" Her grip on his wrists tightened.

"I told you I would stand with you no matter what. Mages deserve to be free, and I will see you leave this place free, today, with me," she said softly, feeling him trembling as he fought back the tears. His eyes were shut tightly. His lips moved but no sound came. The silence ate at the room while everyone stood and stared, not knowing what was happening anymore. Hawke's companion's exchanged glances quickly. "Let's take the fight to Meredith. She knows she can't win this fight. You're coming with us, and you are going to help us show her what we are capable of. Now, pull yourself together. You're not yet so old and broken that you can't put up a hell of a good fight. I'm not going without you."

She gave him a moment to put on his bravest face before letting go of his wrists. He stood there, still, their foreheads touching. "You're a great comfort, Champion," he said. "Your eyes, your voice and touch… Bravery and kindness emanate from you, and it's very comforting. I thank you. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been here. I… I must seem like a monster."

"Hey." Hawke grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him gently. "You're not a monster, but I've grown tired of your defeatism. Now come on."

"Al-… alright, Champion." He stepped back and looked around at his remaining apprentices, beginning to feel embarrassed. Hawke began to make her way over to her companions. "Meredith has had this coming for a long time, now. Her _abuse _ends today." His booming voice echoed and faded into cheering and applause. Hawke regarded him over her shoulder briefly, fondly, a smile tugging at her lips. His gaze met hers for a split second, and she could see the change in him. He was ready to fight.

"His spirit is admirable," Fenris said. "Although, I'm still a bit confused as to what it is that I'm doing here." His crushing intimidation was cast into oblivion with a playful smirk thrown her way. "I've been following you around for so long I've begun to follow you blindly."

"Or maybe you've seen through me that not all mages are bad."

"You are not bad, but you are not good, either," he said with a chuckle. "Just don't die out there, Hawke."

"I don't plan on it," she said softly. She stood on tiptoes and placed a kiss on his cheek, lights flaring up all around them as she did so.

Fenris sighed. "I hate it when you use wards of protection on me." They both laughed.

She moved on to Merrill next. She took her hand in hers and smiled. "Fight hard. Fight smart." She kissed her cheek, too, which had the same magical effect as before.

"In case I don't get the chance later, Hawke… Dareth shiral, friend. May the dread wolf never catch your scent.." Merrill smiled and wiped a tear from her cheek and turned her head in embarrassment.

"Hawke." Aveline's voice was strong as always but utterly transparent. "You are the best friend I've ever had. I'll see you on the other side."

"Same to you, Aveline." Hawke hugged her tightly before she did for her what she did for the others. Next she turned to Isabella, who was looking cocky as ever. "And you."

"Don't give me that crap, Hawke," she laughed. "You can tell me how great I am once all this is over."

"Maker's breath, Rivaini," Hawke exclaimed. "I'm only trying to express my undying love to you." They both grinned and Hawke cast her spell just the same as before.

"Come on sis," Carver called, "the Templars won't wait forever."

"Shut up, Carver," she said as she approached him and kissed him, too. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Hawke moved on to Anders, who was beaming from ear to ear at her. "Are you ready to cut Meredith down to size?" he asked. Hawke nodded and smiled. As she tilted her head up to kiss his cheek, he swooped in and met her lips with his. He brought her in close to him, wrapping his arms around her waist. She ran her fingers through his hair, the ward flaring up around them as it formed beneath Anders' feet.

They broke away after a moment and there was complete silence until someone spoke up. "If you're still handing out protective wards, I'll have whatever he's having." It was, surprisingly – to everyone but Hawke – Orsino. Hawke stifled her laughter.

"Damn Blondie," Varric said, staring in disbelief. "That took a lot of balls."

"I've only wanted to do that for six years," Anders said breathily. "Figured I might not get another chance."

"You swooped in on me," Hawke said, equally breathily, fanning her face with her hand. "Swooping is bad."

"What? You didn't like it?"

"I didn't say that."

Anders grinned.

"Come on Hawke," Varric sighed, "do your thing. Just don't touch the chest hair. And spare me the tears." Hawke knelt down and hugged him tighter than she'd ever hugged anyone before doing her aforementioned 'thing'. "Good luck out there, Hawke. Not that you need it."

* * *

"Have you ever been camping out in the wild, First Enchanter?" Anders asked, passing him a bottle of ale and bowl of some sort of stew comprised of the things one finds in the wild. "You don't seem very comfortable. A bit out of your element, being away from your Circle, maybe?"

"You could say that. I've certainly never been camping out in the wild without provisions, no. And I'm certainly no First Enchanter, now." He took a swig of ale and grimaced, amusing onlookers. "I don't suppose you all do this sort of thing often."

"More often than you'd think."

"Although, I suppose you were a Grey Warden, weren't you?"

"I still am, technically speaking. And Carver," Anders replied grimly. "Even travelling with Hawke can't help that fact, though she's tried. Someday it'll all catch up with me – with both of us."

"Until then," Hawke chimed in, "I've got your back."

"It must be nice to have someone like the Champion to look out for you."

"Orsino, if you're no longer First Enchanter," Hawke began, "I'm no longer Champion. Besides, you ought to know. You're one of us, now."

"Now that all formalities are out the window," Varric said, raising his bottle, "Let's all get shitfaced."

"What do I call you, then?" Orsino asked, smiling at Varric's proposition.

"Well, most people call me Hawke, as you may know. Revka works fine, too. Sebastian called me Revka, sometimes…" She trailed off, staring into the fire, tears forming in her eyes at the thought.

Orsino leaned in next to Varric and asked softly, "Is she alright?"

"Sure. She just gets weepy when she drinks."

"Sebastian… I think I saw you two walking in Hightown on occasion."

"We were friends, yes, good friends. Not anymore. He hates me now."

"That's probably for the best," Anders said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "As much as she cared for him," he added in an aside to the confused Orisino, "there never much else that went on between them. He wasn't exactly the physical type."

"He was the loving type, though," Hawke said, obviously on the verge of breaking down. "A good friend, a confidant, a guide. I think that's what I needed, though. I mean, platonic friendship with a hot, celibate prince works when you're… well, as inexperienced as I am. He was a good friend. I was sorry to see him go."

"Let's stop talking about this," Orsino suggested helpfully, sensing her distress. Hawke thanked him with her eyes.

"Waitwaitwait." Varric jumped out of his seat. "You're a virgin?"

"No, I'm not saying that. It's just been… well, quite a while. Many years, actually. I'm quite out of practice, really." Hawke looked around at the faces gathered around the fire and wiped her eyes. "Is that so wrong?"

"Yes!" Isabella exclaimed, throwing her arms up in the air. "Although, now that you mention it… that explains why you're so grumpy all the time. We need to get you laid, old girl."

"Hawke, would you like to join me in my tent, later?" Anders asked, only half-jokingly.

"That makes us having to actually share a tent a lot more awkward," Hawke said. "Anyone want to switch?" Everyone laughed. "No, seriously."

Silence.

"Ouch," Anders grumbled.

"I'm not sharing," Fenris offered. "Everyone… passed on the idea."

"Good. You'll protect me from the evil Anders, won't you?"

"And the evil blood mages," Fenris added, looking at Merrill and then Orsino, his gaze lingering just slightly on the latter. For all he knew, Orsino could no longer be trusted. Not that he'd really trusted him before. He'd already been pushed to the edge; who's to say it wouldn't happen again? As if being a Mage wasn't bad enough, he was a Blood Mage in the making, not to mention that Hawke had some strange sort of fascination with him. He wasn't jealous. He was worried. For her safety. He didn't want to see Hawke's nearly virgin blood spilled anytime soon.

Hawke, who'd already begun the process of scooting away from Anders a while ago, reached as far as she could scoot along the log and settled in next to Orsino. Fenris got up and filled in the space between Hawke and Anders, settling Hawke's anxiety for good. She felt secure. Although, perhaps the anxiety had been a fabrication of the alcohol she was drinking. "Look, I'm a sandwich and the bread is elves." She giggled, and hiccupped.

"How much have you had to drink, Hawke?" Varric asked in disbelief.

"Enough," Fenris assumed, taking the bottle from her hand and taking a swig of it himself. "Although I think she has the right idea." A mumbling of agreement circled around the fire.

"I refuse to drink until I can celebrate the safe coming of my husband," Aveline said firmly.

Everyone groaned in response. Isabella leaned over and touched her shoulder. "Enough of that. He'll be fine, Aveline. Cut loose. We're celebrating the fall of the evil Meredith."

"I don't see how you can celebrate the death of so many innocents," Orsino mumbled, earning another groan of disapproval.

"Take me to bed, Fenris," Hawke commanded. "Orsino is starting to bum me out."

"As you wish, Hawke."

* * *

They left before dawn broke, now with Donnic in their ragtag party of misfits. Hawke, for once, was not leading the party. In fact, she was trailing at the back of the group, nursing her remarkable hangover. Lack of sleep hadn't really helped that fact, although sleeping with another warm body was admittedly nice for a change. She hadn't had the chance since that man from the Hanged Man… well, that was more than three years ago now, and he was no one special. Actually, once she thought about it, there was that one time she and Gamlen had gone out drinking and he ended up crashing with her, though he wasn't a very pleasant sleeping companion, her uncle. He kicked and talked in his sleep and smelled awful. Fenris was still. He mumbled once and a while, but it was quiet enough, and sort of sweet. He reminded her of Bethany in that respect.

She talked to Anders about the previous night's disagreement, or whatever one would call such a thing. Now that she was in her right mind, she couldn't care less. She was just upset about Sebastian leaving, she decided, and a tad drunk. Typical, drunk Hawke, he added with a grin. She just felt a bit self-conscious after the big reveal and was still a bit touchy when it came to the subject of sex. She'd had enough bad experiences over the years.

When the sun finally showed itself from behind the mountains, Hawke began to regret drinking so much the night before even more. She closed her eyes for a moment and managed to trip over a rock in the road. It seemed as though nobody had noticed until steady hand came to guide her to her feet. She looked up and saw Orsino offering his arm. "Rest your eyes, I'll do the work for them," he suggested. Hawke took his offered arm and closed her eyes tightly, mumbling a word of thanks. "You should drink some more water; it will help with the headache."

"It's not just that; I think I might have taken a few more hits from the Templars than I thought. Anders gave me something for the pain. It'll kick in any minute," she said. "If you'd like to help in the meantime, why don't we talk? It'll help keep my mind off it. Softly, mind you."

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. How was sleeping with my brother? I mean, well, not in that way. You know."

"He kicked me once or twice." He chuckled.

"Yes, kicking runs in the Amell family. Or, so I'm told." Silence followed. "Just the men have it, though. My uncle is remarkably restless, you should have heard him. I shared a room with him for over a year. Bethany, my sister, she was amazingly still when she slept, like our father. I've been told I'm the same way."

"Good to know," he said with an added chuckle, earning a similar response from his companion. "I'm not surprised, with all the fighting you do throughout the day. If I were you, I'd collapse into bed at the end of the day as well."

"You'll know what it's like soon enough. Imagine the Qunari uprising happening every single day. It's tiring, but you'll sleep like a baby."

"I'm already starting to feel the strain," he admitted. "Then again, I'm not as young as you."

"I'm not exactly young, myself. I never used to get hungover. It's decidedly unpleasant. Now I know what my uncle was always on about, Andraste's tits… this is not something you can throw fireballs at, is it? Ow… Maybe Mages are just weak when it comes to these things. We've got magic and demons and shit flowing through our brains; we don't need anything else to have to deal with. Maybe I should get out more."

"Yes, I'm glad this mistake has encouraged you to go out and make more mistakes," Orsino mumbled, sighing heavily. "It's just a hangover. It can't be that bad. Meredith was the worst headache Thedas has ever seen, and she's gone," he said helpfully. Hawke cracked a smile. "I'm going to keep trying to distract you with idle conversation, alright?" Hawke nodded. "The weather is nice, today, for so early in the year. Strange, after all that's happened, but nice. I never get to see the sun much, holed up in the Gallows. You might not appreciate it as much as I do, especially in your current state. Feeling the sun on my ears and seeing the road stretched out ahead. The air smells like freedom; I can do whatever I want now. I'm glad that I'm here. I'm eternally thankful that you stopped me before doing something I would have regretted. Who knows what would have happened if you hadn't been there, or had you not stopped me. I don't even want to think about it…" His rambling trailed off. "Hawke?"

Hawke's body went completely limp and her legs fell out from under her. It caught him off-guard, and she fell forward, flat on her face. She was completely still, laughing into the dirt. Orsino called for help. Anders was noticeably unimpressed as he rushed over and saw her lying there. He knelt over and prodded her. "Maker's breath, Hawke, can you move? How much of that bottle did you drink?"

She could hardly manage to speak through the fit of laughter. "All of it."

Anders straightened up and turned to see everyone else watching him for answers. "She's crippled herself. She won't be able to move for about – I don't know – six hours. It will wear off eventually, but she'll be immobile until then, and there's nothing I can do about that. We might as well stop for now."

Carver threw his hands up the in air. "But we just started moving half an hour ago!"

"What else can we do, Carver? It's not like she's going anywhere anytime soon."

The younger Hawke groaned, fought back the urge to argue, and sighed. He marched over to his sister, grabbed her by the ankles, and threw her over his shoulders with little to no effort. "There. Let's keep moving, shall we?"

* * *

Hawke's hands rose and fell with every step her brother took, bouncing off Little Hawke's prominent rear end as a result, causing her to giggle in delirious amusement. Isabella came to know that drugged Hawke was a lot more fun than drunk Hawke – less emotional, and a lot simpler. She, and most everyone else, kept close behind Carver, who marched ahead with great purpose, trying his best to ignore his sister's antics. His task grew more difficult when she began to address him directly. "Carver, your butt is very firm. I commend your rear end. Ha." She looked at Isabella. "It runs in the family," she added with a wink.

"Oh, I know it does," she replied with a smirk.

"That's what happens when you spend a lot of time running from Templars," Carver shot bitterly. The strain of carrying his sister was beginning to take its toll. Or maybe he just woke up feeling extra angsty that morning. "It's inevitable. I bet Anders has a nice ass too. Hell, we probably all have nice, firm asses by now."

"Hey, you're the one who didn't want to stop," Anders said. "I'd offer to carry her, but I'm not half as strong as you are, and, well… Maybe it's time we stop for lunch."

"I second that notion," Carver said with added aggression and disdain.

Just another minute down the road did they find a perfect spot to rest, shaded, with large rocks to sit on, just along the river. They settled in nicely, and Carver propped his sister up against a tree. They soon found they didn't have much left for rations, after having eaten most of what they caught the night before. Varric found and skewered some small, furry animals with the help of Bianca, and Anders began preparing them over the fire Orsino built. The latter was trying as hard as possible to not seem as useless as he felt to the party.

Orsino was feeling a lot like dead weight ever since Hawke had stopped him from resorting to blood magic. He felt wrong inside, not so much like he didn't belong with them, but more so like he didn't _deserve _to be there, alive, with them. Not to mention he was older, he felt the pressure to prove his worth to his new travelling companions and to Hawke especially. He remembered her saying, not too long ago, that she admired him, which he found hard to believe. Now, after his quick fall from grace, after losing all of the apprentices he swore to protect in a fight he knew they wouldn't win, he didn't feel right anymore. About anything. But Hawke wanted him to come with her, and that was enough for now.

Hawke had re-learned how to move each individual finger and toe. She could move her wrist and lift her arm, but not bend it. Her legs were still completely numb. Merrill helped her eat a squirrel and a bit of rabbit, which everyone found vaguely funny to watch, as Merrill would scold Hawke for not cooperating and Hawke would yell at her for not doing a good enough job, for which she was scolded even more. It reminded everyone of a mother trying to feed a stubborn toddler. Hawke found it less than entertaining, herself.

After being fed, Hawke had little she could do other than try to start up conversation, not that there was much to be said. "Should we discuss sleeping arrangements now, or wait until tonight?"

"I've had enough walking," Isabella said. "I say we set up camp here. It's not a bad spot. It's pretty, at least. All in favour?" There was a chorus of 'I's. "Good. Who will be sleeping with who?"

"I say you and Daisy should share," said Varric.

"I'll be sharing with my husband, thank-you," Aveline said.

"I second," Donnic said with a smile, putting an arm around the guard-captain.

"I'm not sharing with the dog," Anders said, pointing at Fenris, who had to refrain from growling. "No offense, Fenris, but I don't trust you not to murder me in my sleep."

"I'll share with my sister," Carver said. "I don't trust her with any of you. No offense," he added, turning to glare at Anders. Fenris smiled, feeling almost as though he'd just been defended, somehow. Hawke scowled, her face flushing in embarrassment.

"I'm not into humans, anyway, Little Hawke," Varric assured him. "But I'll comply. I guess I'll share with you, Fenris. You can beat me at cards. We'll laugh and drink until dawn. And that leaves Blondie and the other twinkle fingers. Sound good?"

Everyone was at least partially satisfied, except Hawke, who was a bit offended by Carver taking charge over her. The feeling she felt reminded her of days as a rebellious teenager, displeased with her parents trying to keep her inside, safe from the Templars. She wanted to kick a wall, slam a door, write a sad poem and bang her head against something, maybe give Carver the old 'you can't control me' speech. Maybe that was just a side effect of the drugs; de-aging her by ten years. She sighed, let her head fall on her shoulder, and closed her eyes.


	2. II - Isala Ir

When Hawke opened her eyes, the sun was setting. Camp was already set up, and everyone was gone, save Carver, probably out looking for dinner. Hawke guessed she'd accidentally fallen asleep. She stood up and stretched. Only then did she realize Anders' medicine had worn off. She felt remarkably refreshed, healthy, happy to be alive; happy to be here with all of her closest friends, away from the tension in Kirkwall that had been hanging over her for so many years. She felt free.

She walked over to the fire and took a seat next to Carver, who had his head in his hands, covering his eyes. He was sitting so perfectly still, Hawke wondered if he had fallen asleep. She looped an arm through his and rested her head against him. "I love you," she said merrily. Slowly, his head rose from his hands and he looked at her, a bit confused at first. Finally, he decided not to question it. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, without saying a word. They sat in a content silence for a while, until Isabella appeared before them in nothing but her soaking undergarments, breathing heavily.

"The river water is remarkably perfect. Do you want to come join us?" she asked. Hawke looked to Carver as though asking permission. He nodded her on. Isabella grabbed her hand and pulled her from her seat, then along the river bank toward the sounds of laughter and splashing. "It's quite a bit deeper over here," she informed her. "Let's get you out of those clothes."

"I can do it myself, Isabella, thank-you," Hawke said.

"Good luck," Anders said, appearing from nowhere. He suddenly grabbed hold of her, causing Hawke to shriek, and threw her into the water. She screamed as she flew through the air and landed with a loud splash. Anders jumped in after her. Shortly after, her head poked through the surface and she began laughing. It took great effort to remove her light armour underwater, but she managed it, and tossed it up on to the bank. Once she was done, she swam over to Anders and pounced on him, pushing his head under the surface. He struggled to get her off, and she finally let him go. After a moment of gasping for air, he said decidedly, "I deserved that."

Everyone had noticed since they left Kirkwall that Anders seemed happier, as though unburdened, which was the case. He laughed and smiled more over the past two days than he did in all of the years he had spent in Kirkwall. Out of everyone, Anders seemed to be the quickest to accept and adjust to the situation. He must have been glad, after all he'd done in Kirkwall, to escape it all. He had done what he'd set out to do, and walked away unharmed, much to his surprise and the disdain of many. Many nights he'd spent lying awake, thinking of all that was to come. For so long, the resistance ruled his life. Now, he was about to become an idol to oppressed Mages everywhere. He thought that after what he'd done, he'd be executed or imprisoned, or maybe he'd walk away, though with all of his friends hating him forever. Hawke had kept him alive, and she still seemed to want him around, so he was more than content.

Isabella and Varric were laughing, Merrill trying not to laugh at his distress for fear of offending, but failing miserably. Orsino stood on the riverbank, watching in amusement. Anders saw him and called out to him to join them. He hesitated for a moment, but eventually gave into the pleading when the four others joined him. He removed his gloves, undid a few latched and allowed his robe to fall to his feet. Slowly, he managed to remove his trousers. He approached the water and tested it with his toe. Satisfied, he waded in up to his waist and then floated up onto his back. He allowed the gentle current to carry him along, closing his eyes, oblivious to the others and their shenanigans going on around him.

Hawke watched curiously, head cocked to one side, as he floated along at a snail's pace. She swam alongside the elf silently for a few minutes before she grew bored of it. She grabbed hold of his feet and began pulling him through the water before he realized what was going on. His eyes shot open and he began to fight against it, paddling frantically as he began taking on water. "H-Hawke!" he cried out in confusion.

She let go. "Oh, hello. Fancy meeting you here," she said innocently, flashing him a brilliant smile. "Especially in your underclothes. What a coincidence. I must say, you're looking exceptionally naked on this fine evening," she added.

"You as well," he said, smiling crookedly. "I can't remember the last time I went swimming. It must have been back when I was an apprentice, maybe even before that. I can remember, though, my father teaching me how when I was very young. I asked him to show me how he floated on his back the way he did. I always thought it was magic. I was so proud once I learned how to do it myself, and used to love doing it."

"Oh I'm sorry, were you talking? I was distracted by how painfully ancient are." Hawke smiled. "I'm only kidding. That's a lovely memory. When was that? Two Ages ago?" She kicked back and began swimming a viciously fast backstroke, laughing all the way. Orsino swam after her.

"It's become apparent to me that you think of me to be quite old. I'm not _that_ old," he called after her.

"If you don't mind me interrupting," Merrill began, joining him as he chased after Hawke, "when I a little girl, there was a boy my age in the clan who was always teasing me. One day, he kicked down a little house I made out of twigs. The Keeper told me it was because he liked me." Once she'd finished, she swam back over to the others and left him to his game of chase.

"Did you hear that?" he called, laughing.

"Unfortunately," she called back. Hawke stopped and let herself float on the water's surface, just as Orsino had done before, allowing him to catch up to her. He, too, flipped onto his back so that he could float alongside of her. They floated alongside each other in silence, arms linked like a pair of otters, until Carver came and called the swimmers in for supper. Orsino flopped forward and began making his way down river to where his discarded clothes were. Before he knew it, Hawke was on his back, arms wrapped around his neck. She closed her eyes and settled in against him. He carried her through the water and up onto the bank, where she dropped onto her own two feet. She marched over to her own pile of clothes, neither saying a single word. Orsino smiled to himself as he put his clothes back on.

Hawke bent over her pile of clothes and prodded them with a single finger._ Still soaked. _She lifted her trousers up off the ground and frowned at them. Anders ran past her, clad in his own sun-warmed, dry clothes, chuckling at her. She began to shiver as the wind blew, and she sighed. Orsino tossed his robes at her as he passed, figuring she needed them more than he did. Hawke wrapped herself up in them tightly, picked up her wet clothes, and followed him back to camp.

The party gathered around the fire and began to eat. The sun was setting below the mountain, leaving a trail of pink light behind it. Hawke sat with Carver and Varric under a tree, only just within the fire's light, bathing in shadows. Varric managed to refrain from speaking for about thirty whole seconds after Hawke sat down next to him – Carver's stoney expression was too much for him. "So tell me, Junior, why are you only now deciding to take such an interest in your sister's love life?"

Carver sighed, deciding to let the 'Junior' go. For now. "Because, Varric, I hadn't seen how Fenris looks at her until today. He's no better than a feral dog, and I don't trust him with my sister."

The aforementioned sister's eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. "Maybe you should mind your own business, Carver. I think I can handle myself just fine." She shook her head and began chowing down in a fashion somewhat reminiscent of a mabari hound. "Besides, I don't know if you've noticed, but he and Isabella are sleeping together. Or were, I don't know what's going on between them; I mind my own business, unlike you."

"Last I checked, Isabella is still all hands with him," Varric affirmed. "You've got a lot to learn about love, Junior. Anyone can see that Orsino and Anders are the only remaining active love interests. Sure, the First Enchanter's a bit old, but he's got that certain… je ne sais quois. Remember when he stood up to the Qunari? Damn. And Anders… _well_, there's a _lot_ of history there. And have you seen the way he follows her with his eyes? You can tell by the look in his eyes that he _aches _for her. I'd say he still has a fighting chance."

"Well, he _is _a Grey Warden. How long do they live after joining the order again?" Hawke asked, though she was merely just wondering aloud. The thought brought a frown to Carver's already troubled face. "I mean, if anything, Orsino and I'd have more happily-ever-after time." She began to trail off in thought, before she whipped around to face Varric. "What do you think?"

"I honestly don't know, Hawke. I've never had to choose which of two equally complex, angsty men to pursue. Let's start by weighing the pros and cons."

"Alright, I'll start; Anders is ruggedly handsome, Orsino is more refined. Two good points. Cons; Anders in an abomination, Orsino was seconds away from using blood magic."

"Anders is a pretty passionate guy, Orsino's more the _com_passion kind of guy. I bet Anders would be better in bed."

"Yes, but he _did_ blow up the Chantry, killing an innocent woman in the process." She paused, her nose crinkling. "Though, he smells like a real man – all dirt and sweat. Orsino smells like," she paused to smell the robes she had wrapped herself up in, "fresh rain and parchment. Ooh."

"Elves have pretty eyes, although –"

"Remember Anders' nice rear end," Carver chimed in sarcastically, turning to Varric, who seemed a bit irritated at being interrupted. "I can't believe you're trying to get my sister to hook up with a couple of fugitives."

"Not a couple, only one," Hawke corrected. "That's the point of doing pros and cons. You forget _you're_ a wanted man, as well. We're _all_ running from the authorities, Carver. Don't think you're any better just because they're Mages."

"I _am_ better; there's no possibility of me suddenly turning into an abomination!"

"Watch it, Carver," Hawke warned, "lest you forget." She summoned a flame with the snap of her fingers. "And that pretty little flower of yours is one of the greatest dangers those Templars you hold in such high regard hunt."

"Don't think we haven't noticed you've taken an interest in Daisy over there," Varric added, helpfully nodding in Merrill's general direction. "C'mon, Junior, if your sister is going to choose one of those guys, wouldn't you like to have a say in it?"

Carver found this offer very tempting at first. But then, he decided it best not to anger his sister anymore by thinking any better of himself than her or her 'active love interests'. If there was anything he hated more than seeing his sister upset, despite anything he may say, was seeing that she was upset because of his doing. He figured he ought to speak his mind. "Tell me: are you going along with Varric's little charade to amuse him, or to annoy me? Because, though you feign interest in these men, we both know what's going on here."

"Carver, I don't 'feign interest' in anything or anyone. We're just having a little fun. This is just between the three of us. A game. I don't th-"

"Oh, give it up, sister. I think you're just afraid to admit the truth – even to yourself. But you know what? You're a grown woman, and it's about time you act like it. I don't want to hear any more of it!" He grabbed his food and drink and stood up. "If it helps, I honestly don't care what you chose to do. You're my sister, and, though I don't say it often enough – if ever – I love you, no matter what." He marched off over to the fire and plopped down next to Merrill.

Varric hardly ever looked up from his supper. "He's right. Either way, Isabella's friend-fiction followers will be terribly disappointed," he scoffed.

"Yeah, you and I are _not_ going to fall in love with each other. What is with her 'friend-fiction', anyway?"

"Hey!" They turned and saw Isabella waving her arms at them. "If you two lovebirds are done over there, can we get to the serious stuff, like where we're actually going? Camping with you all is very nice, don't get me wrong, but I'm not a fan of wandering aimlessly around mountains paths."

"Where do you _want _to go?" Hawke asked as she got up. She and Varric made their way over to the fire as Isabella began to speak.

"Well, I _am_ a pirate. It's about time I got back to, you know, pirating. More specifically, I'm, going to rejoin the Raiders."

"Alright."

"Hold on, 'alright'? After all this time?"

"You're one of my best friends, blah blah blah. I know I can't stop you, Isabella."

"…Right."

"I would like to go with you," Fenris said, much to everyone's surprise. "Hawke told me that I should start a life of my own, and lay down roots. I intend to find a place to lay down roots. I've had enough with magic and Templars. So, if you'll have me..."

"Of course."

"I have to go back to Kirkwall," Aveline said. "I think Donnic and I will come with you to the next town, we may stay for a few days until the initial chaos dies down, but… Kirkwall is without a leader yet again, and my position can be used for good – to lead the people back into an era of peace. I couldn't just abandon them.

Donnic placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "I know the area. The next town isn't more than a day's journey. I think we should be headed in that direction. We're almost out of supplies, anyway. We could stay there while you all get sorted."

"And what about you, Varric?" Hawke asked. "What will you do?"

"I'm going to go back to travelling," Varric said. "Tavern to tavern, collecting stories, embellishing them, and spreading tales of our excellence, Hawke. Minus the whole pretty-much-starting-a-holy-war thing. It's what I'm good at."

"I think I'll build myself a house somewhere," Merrill said, "far away from the city. I'll go back to living off the land. I'm Dalish, it's what I know."

"Maybe you'll become a witch of legend, like Flemeth," Hawke said with a smile.

"Every town I stop in," Varric began, "I'll tell the tale of the little elf witch who lives alone in her hut in the woods, who eats little children who misbehave."

"Goodness me, no," Merrill exclaimed, though she couldn't help but smile.

"I'm going to go back to helping people, I think," Anders said. "I don't doubt they'll come looking for me. And there's only one thing that will protect me." He gazed into the flames, sighing. "I have to go back to the Wardens. They saved me from myself before, they can do it again. The authorities won't take me if I'm in service. Probably. Unless Sabastian _does_ raise an army and come back for me. Besides, I _did_ help people while I was with them."

"I think I'll take up a hobby," Orsino said. "Or maybe I'll write a book. A grimoire. Who knows?"

"And me, well," Carver began. "I have to say, I think it's time I officially rejoined my fellow Grey Wardens as well. What about you, sister?"

Hawke paused. For the first time in a long time, she was without direction. "I don't know."

"I think it's safe to say, you're welcome to come with any of us."

Hawke smiled a sad sort of smile and shrugged. "So, do we all agree that, when we reach the next town, which seems to be tomorrow, we're all parting ways, then?" Everyone mumbled some sort of affirmation, and Hawke's heart sank. "It's all a bit… sad, don't you think?" A similar mumble of affirmation erupted, though a bit more slowly and with a bit of hesitation from each party member. "Well, we'll all know where Aveline and Donnic are, so we can always stay in touch that way," Hawke said helpfully. It was mostly to console herself, though the others took comfort in her words all the same. Merrill muttered something about true friendship, but Hawke was unable to focus on her nervous stutter.

After that, the party picked itself back up again, and stayed up chatting, drinking and playing cards well into the night. Only when they finally ran out of ale did everyone begin heading off to bed. Aveline and Donnic were the first to retire, setting off a chain reaction of people who didn't want to be the first to admit that they were tired. Soon, it was only Fenris and Hawke who remained. After a few moments of silence, the former stood and stretched. "Hawke, don't look so lost. Knowing you, wherever you go, whatever choices you make – you won't be wrong. You've started a new life once before, you can do it again, I'm sure." And with that, he left her alone, staring at the dying embers of a once brilliant fire.

"Hawke." The urgent whisper of her name coming from the open flap of an open tent caught her attention. She rose slowly to her feet and stumbled over toward it. She tripped over a rock, but strong arms caught her and helped her regain her balance. The half-gloved hands helped her identify the owner, though she couldn't see his face in the dark. "Come." Orsino led her to the tree under which she'd eaten her previous two meals and the pair sat down. "I couldn't get to sleep," he admitted.

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried," she said, feeling a lump in her throat.

"Anders fell asleep a soon as he laid down his head," he said, chuckling. "He talks in his sleep. Says… _naughty_ things. Your name came up a lot. My name, too." Hawke couldn't tell if he was joking or telling the truth.

"I guess you'll get your wish, Orsino," Hawke blurted out very suddenly.

"What do you mean?"

She pulled the robes tighter around herself. "Well, we only just joined forces, and tomorrow we're parting ways. We'll never become close after all."

Orsino paused to think before he replied. He could have sworn he heard her voice shake as she spoke. He suspected it was just the cold. "That's not what I meant when I said that. I just didn't want to see you get involved," he said finally, finding the response adequate himself. "Bit late for that now, I suppose. Though, I guess the only way we'll ever get the chance to become friends like you wanted is if you were to come with me." It was almost a question. Orsino cursed himself internally for the way it came out.

"I suppose," Hawke managed. She found herself shivering from the cold. "What would the two of us do, anyway?"

"Oh, I don't know… hide from the Templars, catch up on our reading, slit our wrists and dance naked under the moonlight?"

"Well, if _that_'s what you had in mind…" They both laughed, remembering that day after Hawke had escorted Orsino back to the gallows. In his quarters, they had made the same joke, roles reverse. In the distance, they could hear the howling of some animal. Hawke looked up at the moon and sighed. "Makes me wonder where my dog has gotten off to," she muttered softly. Orsino grunted in acknowledgement. "I'm cold."

"Me too. Come on." He pulled her in against the warmth of his firm chest. A few moments of silence passed before Hawke spoke up.

"Hey, Orsino."

"Yes?"

She craned her neck so that she could see the outline of his head. "I'd say we're pretty close." Orsino snorted in amusement and Hawke settled back in against his chest. His soft breathing and of the sound of his heartbeat helped to ease her mind. "So, if I asked for unbiased advice, or asked you any sort of hypothetical question, you'd provide an answer, right? I mean, we're friends."

"Yes."

"Right." She took in a sharp breath and held it for a moment, furrowing her brow, and let it go as she found her resolve. "Do think it's possible to love something – like cake – and I don't mean care for it, really, but rather, be impossibly in love with something, and for a long time felt this way about it – and to _not_ want it? What I mean is: eating cake feels wrong, even though it tastes _so good,_ and your heart tells you that you want it. And yet, in the back of your mind, you still know that you don't want cake, because it's bad for both of you. You'll feel bad after eating it, like, icky. You'll use the cake, eat it all up, and leave it nothing, and it will make you feel terrible in the end, because, everyone likes cake, and it just wants to make people happy, but you're doing this terrible thing to it. And cake wants to have cupcakes someday, and you can't stand cupcakes and have never wanted them. Ever. And, say this cake has… fruit in it, so it will expire sooner than other cakes. But you don't want to eat anything other than cake because you've in love with it for a while. Is it still worth it?"

It took Orsino a moment to process Hawke's complex hypothetical, and another to formulate an answer to it. Though she couldn't see it, he looked decidedly perplexed. "I know it's possible to want something you can't have, or to want something you know is bad for you, but to want something you know is bad for you and to _not_ want it at the same time means you've put too much thought into it. 'Is it worth it?' I've been through a lot myself, and I'm ready to _live_ for once, to put _my_ happiness before all else, and as much as I'd like to provide my verdict unbiased… for the first time, I have a friend – an equal – and I enjoy your company. I'm not going to give that up so you can run off with some reckless revolutionary to have some short-lived affair that will bleed you both dry and ultimately end with you being alone and feeling guilty. You've given me eternal freedom, Hawke, and I want to be able to enjoy it." There was a pause, and he sighed. "Slightly biased, but also fairly reasonable, I hope," he finished.

"Mmm."

Hawke separated herself from him and rose to her feet. All that he could see of her was the twinkling of her eyes. She bent over to touch his shoulder gently, then found his hand and helped him stand. "Thank you." Something about her detached tone stirred something within him. Just as soon as she'd said it, he felt her absence.

"Any time, Hawke," he murmured.

Everyone was glad to be sleeping in warm beds again. Everyone but Orsino, it seemed. Not that he wasn't glad to be in a warm bed, he hadn't slept so well. Anders and Carver were set to leave for Weisshaupt in the morning, Isabella and Fenris were off to the nearest port with Varric in tow, Merill was off to the Brescillian Forest, Aveline and her husband were enjoying some quality time, and Hawke… he thought he'd heard she was going with her brother, and that meant she was going with Anders, as well.

He'd woken up at first light, but tried desperately to sleep through till noon, hoping everyone would have left the inn before he got up. He had no desire to hang over their farewells. Not only did he feel as though he didn't belong, he also didn't want to endure the whole thing. For the first time in far too long, he'd made a friend. And it wasn't just that he'd finally found someone so worth his time and attention, but Hawke had gone to such insane lengths to not only help him in any way she could, but also to make him her friend as well, and the thought of having to say goodbye to that so soon made him want to pull the covers over his face and turn away from the world for a while. So he did.

After managing to force himself back to sleep for an hour or two, the friendly wife of the innkeeper came to wake him and ask him if he wanted any lunch. He politely declined and confirmed his intention to stay indefinitely before tossing her a silver and asking for a tea and adding, "Keep the change." She closed the door gently behind her and Orsino finally threw off the covers and ran his fingers through his greying hair. He swung his legs over the bed and was reaching for his boots when he paused at the sound of a knock at the door.

"Are you up?" came the muffled voice from behind the door. There was something in the voice – a hint of desperation that caused his heart to ache. He could hear a soft sob follow the words. His face drained of colour. He was afraid to answer.

Orsino nodded before he realized they couldn't see him. "Yes."

The door flew open and Hawke flung herself at him, kicking the door closed, her clenched fists hitting his chest, making their mark again and again. Tears stained her cheeks. "You weren't there. You told me not to go, and you weren't there for me when I didn't!"

It took him a moment to understand what she meant, and what exactly was happening. Then it dawned on him. He took her hands in his, holding them tightly, and pulled her in closely. "I'm sorry, Hawke." She fought against his embrace, a sob breaking through her lips and shaking him to his very core. "I'm sorry he's gone." She began to relax against him, crying into the crevice where his neck met the sturdiness of his shoulder. The soft nook that smelled of fresh rain made her feel safe. She let out a deep breath and closed her eyes, feeling her immeasurable distress leave her in an instant. "I'll always be there for you from now on, I promise."


End file.
